


Dangers of Chocolate

by defeatedbyabridge



Category: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defeatedbyabridge/pseuds/defeatedbyabridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takeru's not quite sure how this happened.</p><p>Set late season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangers of Chocolate

Takeru wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up here. 

In Chiaki's bedroom.

With a half-eaten box of liqueur chocolates on the (messy, unmade) bed between them.

Feeling decidedly light-headed.

It'd been something to do with checking on Chiaki, he was almost sure of it. He'd wanted to check on Chiaki, because he'd been especially 'emo' (if that was the right word) even for him, and while Chiaki was annoying, he was a necessary part of the team. ~~Definitely not a friend. No. Important team member, sometimes a good fighter, not always someone who needed a good smack, and definitely not a friend.~~

Except Chiaki had been eating these noxious things, and writing bad poetry in a little notebook. Takeru had sat down with him to see what the poetry was about, had managed to refrain from laughing at the terrible scansion and attempts to rhyme, and then somehow he'd found himself popping one of the chocolates into his mouth. 

It was noxious.

It was also good. Rich, and chocolatey, with a bite to the aftertaste. 

And now he'd apparently eaten about fifteen of them. "I told you these were potent," Chiaki said, laughing. Someone was tugging at his shoulder. Oh. Chiaki. Because he was lying down, or something. How had he ended up lying down? 

He sat up, and peeled half a slice of pizza off his shoulder. "You're drunk," he told Chiaki, more because he didn't want to be, than because he believed Chiaki really was. 

"A little." Chiaki laughed again, poking him in the shoulder on the third attempt. "You're more drunker. Drunkerer." 

"This is so embarrassing," Takeru sighed, not quite able to disagree with him. This was what it felt like? This ridiculous urge to giggle and dance around? Perhaps Genta was drunk ALL THE TIME. 

The worst part was that he had to stay in Chiaki's room, now, until he'd improved. If anyone else saw him like this, it would be even more embarrassing. So he had to stay. In Chiaki's room, which smelt of unwashed person, pizza, and, for some bizarre reason, peppermint.

"Y'know," Chiaki said, then he interrupted himself to lick the top off another chocolate. He had smears of chocolate across his lips. Takeru fought the urge to lean forward and kiss them away. Purely to make his face neater, of course. "Y'know," Chiaki continued, "I was depressed till you came in here."

Takeru rolled his eyes. "That's not a secret. Anyone could've guessed that. I have a bigger secret."

He was closer to Chiaki's face, for some reason. Chiaki's lips were parted, and he leaned a little closer. "Yes?" Chiaki breathed.

"It's a big secret."

Why was Chiaki staring at his mouth? "Uh-huh."

"I'm a kagemusha. I'm not really Shiba's 18th head at all." 

Chiaki sighed explosively, and sat back. Why did he look disappointed? "Yeah, sure you are, and I'm a pastry chef. Jeez, Takeru, how stupid do you think I am?" 

Takeru opened his mouth obediently to answer that, because he'd been waiting for some time for a direct question such as this, but Chiaki shoved a chocolate into it.


End file.
